


Mediodía

by joz_stankovich (joz_rose)



Series: The Wednesday Ryder Files [1]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Lies, Mutual Pining, Romance, Slightly altered version of events, canon spoilers, shameless flirting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-07 03:36:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12224931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joz_rose/pseuds/joz_stankovich
Summary: Reyes Vidal worked best in shadow, but she was the sun at midday.  So what was he supposed to do when there were no more shadows to hide inFollows the events of the Kadara arc through High Noon,orIn which Wednesday Ryder proves she has the worst taste in men.





	1. Shena

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the fic I wanted to start out writing once I first boarded the Reyes Vidal obsession train, but I thought no one would want to read my Ryder's version of events, so I ended up writing [Machinations](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11345457/chapters/25390476) first. Now I'm coming back to it because I want to and because Kadara was easily my favourite part of Mass Effect Andromeda.
> 
> Also a huge thank you to @Ilyasviel for giving me the idea for the name of this fic. ❤

   Wednesday Ryder had no idea what Kadara would bring, but anything had to be better than freezing her ass off on Voeld.  She spent the trip to the Gavorkam system wrapped in her thickest blanket going over all the intel she had on Kadara and the angara she was supposed to find, Vehn Tererv, which _wasn’t_ much.  
  
    Wednesday threw the datapad aside with a groan.  Once they landed she was supposed to meet with Evfra’s contact at a bar called Kralla’s Song, but other than a name she knew nothing about the man she was supposed to be meeting with.  _Or_ woman.  She supposed Shena could be a woman’s name.  She hoped that things would become easier once she met with this angara, but she seriously doubted it.  From what Kandros had told her of Sloane Kelly she had a sinking feeling that her time on Kadara was going to be one giant headache.  
  
    “Pathfinder, we’re approaching Kadara now,” Suvi’s voice called over the intercom.  
  
    “Alright, be right there,” she grumbled in response and threw off the blanket to get dressed.  Pawing through her closet Wednesday dismissed anything that had an Andromeda Initiative logo on it.  She was going to a planet of Initiative exiles and she didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself than necessary.  In the end she decided on her usual outfit of black jeans and a gray v-neck.  She stamped her feet into her boots, only lacing them up halfway and then shrugged into her favourite leather jacket - one of the few things she’d actually brought with her to the new galaxy.  Before walking out the door she considered grabbing the teal scarf laying in a pile on her desk, but decided against it.  Kadara was supposedly a humid planet; not as humid as the jungles of Havarl, but still enough so that wearing a scarf would be too much.  
  
    When she reached the bridge Cora and Liam were already there watching their decent through the viewport.  Liam grinned at her as she entered and she flashed him one in return.  Cora, however, eyed her with pursed lips.    
  
    “Is _that_ what you’re wearing?” she asked skeptically.    
  
    Wednesday rolled her eyes at her second-in-command.  “I’m aiming to blend in,” she retorted with a shrug.  “Which is also why I’m bringing Drack and Vetra with me, because you guys have _no_ chill.”  
  
    “Aw c’mon,” Liam exclaimed, his grin slipping.  “I’ve got chill.”  
  
    Wednesday clapped him on the shoulder in mock seriousness.  “Maybe next time Kosta.”  
  
    As if their names were a summons, her krogan and turian crew mates stepped through the automated door, joining them on the bridge.  “This is gunna be fun,” Drack rumbled, nudging Vetra with his elbow.  
  
    “I don’t know about fun,” she replied, “but I _am_ looking forward to resupplying.  Kadara port’s the best place to get some of the hard-to-find stuff.”  
  
    “You mean stolen goods,” Liam scoffed looking unimpressed.  
  
    “I mean smuggled goods,” Vetra amended.  
  
    “Same damn thing,” he fired back.  
      
    As the two continued to bicker Wednesday slipped away to the armory to retrieve her sidearm from the weapons locker.  She fastened her trusty Sidewinder to her hip.  A snort from the door made her look up.  Drack was leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed.  
  
    “What?” the Pathfinder demanded.  
  
    “If you wear that out there it’s just gunna get confiscated.”  The old krogan pointed out.  “Only Sloane’s people are supposedly allowed weapons in the port,” he grunted.  
  
    “Unbelievable,” Wednesday grumbled and tugged the pistol and its holster off her belt, plunking it down on the counter.  
  
    “Hey you ready?” Vetra called, sounding a little frustrated herself.  
  
    “Yeah, let’s get this over with,” Wednesday muttered following her teammates out.  
  
    The port was loud and busy in a way that the Nexus wasn’t.  People pushed past intent on their destinations, hawkers cried their wares from their counters, and nearly everywhere she looked were armed thugs.  Wednesday eyed them warily as she passed, but none of them made to stop her.  In fact, most just looked bored.  
  
    “There’s Kralla’s, over there,” Drack announced, jerking his head toward a small building with a sign in neon script over the door.  
  
    “I’ll meet up with you guys in a bit.  I’ve got some business to attend to,” Vetra murmured vaguely before heading deeper into the throng filling the marketplace.  
  
    “Great.  Okay.”  Wednesday called lamely at the turian’s retreating back.  
  
    In order to get to the bar she and Drack had to edge around a small crowd of Outcast guards and curious onlookers.  Once Wednesday neared she was able to see clearly what they were all staring at.  A man lay on the ground curled in a ball trying to protect his head from the heavy toed boots of the two Outcasts that were kicking him in the ribs and back, while a third looked on disinterestedly.  
  
    “What the hell’s going on here?”  Wednesday blurted out without thinking.  
  
    The Outcast watching turned to regard the Pathfinder with disdain; the butt of her rifle resting on her hip.  “Asshole didn’t pay his protection fees on time.  This is his warning.  Next time his ass is getting thrown out in the Badlands,” she drawled.  “You got a problem with that?”  
  
    The Pathfinder opened her mouth to tell the woman just how much of a problem she had with that when SAM’s voice in her ear pulled her up short.  
  
    “Ryder, perhaps you shouldn’t argue with the armed woman when _you_ are unarmed.”  
  
    Wednesday took a deep breath through her clenched teeth and tried to wipe the disgust from her face.  “You… have a point,” she grumbled under her breath in response to SAM.  The Outcast woman gave her an odd look, but diverted her attention back to the scene in front of her a moment later and Wednesday grudgingly moved on.    
  
    Inside Kralla’s Song Drack took up a post with a good view of the entrance, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall while Wednesday walked up to the bar.  The asari bartender was busy intimidating a krogan mercenary when she approached, but she only half payed attention, instead scanning the other patrons for her angaran contact.  
  
    “Great,” she muttered leaning back against the bar.  “They’re late,” she sighed and let her eyes wander past the edge of the balcony that overlooked the cliff separating the port from the Badlands.  She didn’t notice the stranger that eyed her up and down calculatingly as he approached.  
  
    It was his voice that startled her out of her thoughts; rich and warm, with a rather heavy Latin accent.  “You look like you’re waiting for someone,” he drawled, sidling up to her.  Wednesday turned to face the speaker, her lavender eyes sweeping over him and taking in his nondescript flight suit, casual posture, and neatly styled hair before finally settling on his face.  The asari behind the bar quickly set down two glasses with as scowl before just as quickly retreating.  
  
    Wednesday caught her bottom lip with her teeth as she lost herself in admiring the man’s golden brown eyes and roguish grin before realizing he was offering her the second glass.  She felt her cheeks heat as she tore her eyes away from his face and accepted the beverage.  “I suppose I have time for a drink,” she replied with a deadly twist of her dark painted lips that wasn’t lost on the stranger.  He arched an eyebrow at her in amusement before lifting his glass.  Wednesday followed suit, clinking the rim of her glass to his before tipping back the amber liquid.  She sighed with pleasure as the whiskey washed over her tongue and burned her throat on the way down.  It wasn’t as smooth as she liked, but it was still welcome.  
  
    For a moment she forgot why she was waiting at the bar in the first place, until the man next to her spoke again.  “ _Shena_ , but you can call me Reyes,” he introduced himself before inclining his head toward her and adding conspiratorially, “I hate code names.”  
  
    Wednesday smirked and leaned closer as well.  “I was expecting someone a little more… angaran,” she admitted, watching his expression closely.  
  
    Reyes chuckled.  “The Resistance pays me to supply information, among _other_ things.”  His gaze drifted slightly to admire the delicious view allowed him by the Pathfinder’s strategically low cut top before quickly flicking his eyes back to her smirking face.  
  
    “So you’re a _smuggler_ ,” she pointed out coyly.  
  
    At this he merely shrugged and motioned for her to follow him to the balcony, away from listening ears.  Leaning on their elbows against the ledge, their arms almost brushing, Reyes got down to business.  “Your man, Vehn Terev was arrested by Sloane Kelly, leader of the Outcasts.  Word’s spread about what he did to Moshae Sjefa.  The people are calling for his execution, and Sloane, she’s a woman of the people,” he scoffed, his voice laden with sarcasm.  
  
    Wednesday rolled her eyes.  “Oh please, she’s just another thug.”  She tossed her head irritably, causing her ponytail to sweep across the back of her neck.  The sudden movement drew Reyes’ eyes.  Although he’d read a report of the Pathfinder’s physical description before their meeting, her bright blue locks had still taken him by surprise, and he had to admit that the effect of it against her dark tan skin was rather alluring.  
  
    However, not missing a beat Reyes countered.  “You work for the Initiative.  Sloane was part of the uprising on the Nexus,” he pointed out.  “I doubt she’ll give Vehn up to you easily.”  
  
    “Yeah well, I’m taking him whether she likes it or not,” Wednesday replied stubbornly.    
  
    Her answer made Reyes grin and he leaned closer, his voice tinged with laughter.  “I can see we’re going to be friends, you and I.”  Then his voice lowered, back to business.  “There might be another way to get to him.  You work Sloane and I’ll talk to the Resistance.”    
  
    Without another word he pushed away from the balcony and strode toward the door.  Wednesday turned irratably.  “Hey,” she called.  “How do I contact you if things go south?”  
  
    Reyes merely turned and winked at her, leaving her to gape after him, her mouth hanging open.  _Shena_ had proven to be both utterly charming and infuriating in equal parts and Wednesday wasn’t completely surprised to find herself looking forward to working with him, as she watched him leave.    
  
    Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she made to leave as well when the asari bartender angrily called out, “Hey, you have to pay!”  The Pathfinder stopped short and frowned at her for a moment before realizing that Reyes had left her with the bill.  She rolled her eyes and proceeded to transfer the credits.    
  
    As she stormed past Drack she revised her opinion of her Resistance contact.  Perhaps he was slightly more infuriating than charming after all.


	2. Sloane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wednesday meets with Sloane Kelly and they don't exactly hit it off. Luckily Reyes has a solution to her problem.

    “Hey SAM, what can you tell me about Sloane Kelly?”  Wednesday muttered as she pushed through the marketplace toward the Outcast’s headquarters.  Vetra was still off doing who-knows-what, and Drack was getting comfortable at Kralla’s, so it looked like the Pathfinder was going it alone to meet the leader of the Outcasts.  
  
    “Before joining the Initiative as head of Nexus security, Ms. Kelly served in the Alliance with a nearly spotless record,” SAM answered promptly.  
  
    “ _Nearly_?”  Wednesday asked skeptically.  
  
    “Yes, it seems she was involved in multiple altercations with other officers.”  
  
    The Pathfinder sighed as she stared up at the imposing palace in the center of the square.  “Great, a hot head.  SAM, why do I have the feeling this meeting isn’t gunna go well?”  
  
    “Perhaps if you don’t antagonize her with your usual sarcasm she will be more likely to cooperate.”  
  
    Wednesday stopped midstep; her jaw setting stubbornly.  “Gee thanks SAM, I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied dryly.  
  
    “I’m just trying to be helpful Pathfinder.”  
  
    Surprisingly the guards at the door let her in without a hitch and Wednesday looked around curiously as two hulking krogans escorted her inside.    
  
    “Focus defenses here, and here.”  Sloane gestured to points on a screen as she leaned back on a large solid-looking throne at the head of the room.  “The kett have been quiet for too long.”  
  
    Wednesday stopped several feet in front of her and folded her arms over her chest as she waited.  The woman before her wasn’t exactly what the Pathfinder had expected - older and gruffer, and her sharp accent commanded attention.  
  
    Once she had dismissed the Outcast she’d been relaying orders to she leaned back and glared at the Pathfinder.  “ _What_?” she demanded.  
  
    Wednesday raised an eyebrow.  “That’s quite the throne.  Should I bow?  Kiss your ring?”    
  
    “Very funny,” Sloane replied dryly; clearly not impressed.  She eyed Ryder up and down for a moment before speaking again.  “So what brings a Pathfinder to our humble port?”  
  
    Wednesday shrugged, “An angara named Vehn Terev.  Ring any bells?”  
  
    “What’s he to you?  And don’t lie to me.”  Sloane replied sharply, leaning back in a show of making herself comfortable, as if she were bored with the whole conversation already.  
  
    The Pathfinder hesitated as she deliberated how best to answer.  It took all her self-control not to tell Sloane to fuck off.  Instead she decided on honesty, keeping SAM’s suggestion of civility in mind.  “I need him so I can infiltrate a kett flagship,” she explained.  “You obviously have no love for the kett.  I’m doing you a favour,” she added in hopes it might sway the woman’s decision.  
  
    Sloane just looked at her.  “Kadara is an _angaran_ port.  They want Vehn dead and I want to keep them happy.”  
  
    “C’mon, this is so much bigger than local politics,” Wednesday scoffed.  
  
    Sloane leaned forward fixing the Pathfinder with a hard stare.  “You don’t need _Vehn_.  You need his intel.  I’ll even be kind enough to let you talk to him before I put his head on a spike.”  
  
    The Pathfinder swallowed, unsure how to proceed.  It seemed Sloane was willing to throw her a bone, but on the other hand the Resistance had made it clear they wanted Vehn alive, and Wednesday was loathe to get any further onto Efra’s bad side.  She was probably going to regret it, but she stood by her orders.  “Vehn should be judged by the Resistance, not _you_.”  She tried to make her voice as commanding as possible.  
  
    Sloane rolled her eyes.  “I don’t have time for a morality debate.  Dismissed.”  The Outcast leader saluted Ryder; motioning her men to remove the Pathfinder from her presence.    
  
    Wednesday couldn’t hold it back any longer.  “ _Your highness_ ,” she exclaimed with a disgusted twist of her lips and bowed with an exaggerated flourish before turning to leave, feeling frustration well up inside her.  As soon as she left the throne room, one of the krogan guards slammed the door behind her.  “Ugh, that could’ve gone better,” she groaned.  
  
    “Perhaps Mr. Vidal had more luck?”  SAM suggested.  
  
    Wednesday perked up slightly.  She’d almost forgotten about Reyes.  As she pulled up her omni-tool, about to send him a message she heard his distinctive voice calling her.  
  
    “Ryder, over here!”  
  
    As Wednesday approached, the smuggler folded his arms and leaned back against the pillar he was waiting by; the very image of nonchalance.  By the disgruntled look on her face he could just imagine how things had went with Sloane.  Ryder’s dossier mentioned her reckless pig-headedness (Evfra’s words, funnily enough) and he had picked up on her attitude right away during their brief first meeting.  If he was being honest with himself, Reyes couldn’t help but like that about her.  
  
    “Have a nice chat?” he asked as she stopped in front of him, trying and failing to keep the teasing tone from his voice.  
  
    Wednesday rolled her eyes at him, but her scowl gave way to a sarcastic smirk that he found incredibly sexy.  “I think she likes me,” she retorted placing her hands on her hips.  
  
    Reyes chuckled in response.  “Don’t worry, I found a work around.”  
  
    She sighed.  “Let me guess, it comes with strings attached.”  
  
    “Not any _new_ ones.”  Reyes shrugged and pulled her around the corner away from listening ears.  “Remember, Evfra wants Vehn alive, so when you get inside give him this.”  He slipped a small canister into her hand.  “This will eat through whatever Sloane’s holding him in and it can’t be traced back to us.  A Resistance agent will be waiting to pick Vehn up.”    
  
    Wednesday turned the cylinder over in her hands and glanced back at Reyes.  “Vehn’s intel better be worth it,” she muttered.  
  
    A smirk pulled at his lips.  “You’ll be the judge of that, not me.”  Then he was back to business.  “There’s a maintenance shaft around the corner.”  He opened his omni-tool and typed something in.  “Sending you the code now.  It should get you in... and I’m sure you can handle the rest.”  
  
    That was clearly everything her contact had to say, but Wednesday found herself searching for an excuse to hold his attention a little longer.  “You know, there’s still the matter of the bill you left me with.”  She fixed Reyes with a level look, but the corner of her mouth curled up, giving her away.  
  
    Reyes raised his eyebrows innocently and spread his hands.  “I’m… _usually_ the model gentleman,” he drawled.  
  
    Wednesday crossed her arms and shifted her weight, leaning into her hip; her grin spreading.  “Then why don’t I believe you?”  
  
    The accusation that sprung to her lips held no heat, however, and Reyes laughed.  “That’s because I’m _lying_ ,” he admitted with a gleam in his eye.  
  
    The Pathfinder was taken aback by his bluntness and her mouth fell open.  A moment later her eyes narrowed as if she was trying to figure him out.  Reyes watched her expression with interest.  Ryder seemed unable to hide what she was thinking most of the time, which could prove useful.  She was, however, exceedingly clever and he found their back and forth banter rather enjoyable.  
  
    Reyes didn’t know whether he should be looking forward to trading more verbal jabs with her as much as he did, but it had been a while since he’d felt this level of interest in _anyone_.  _Careful Reyes_ , he chastised himself.  _Don’t forget who it is you’re working with here._   Yet the next words that tumbled from his mouth held an underlying note of anticipation.  
  
    “When you’re done, come to Tartarus.  First round’s on me.”  
  
    Wednesday eyed him skeptically.  
  
    “I _promise_ ,” he added accompanied by his most charming grin, which seemed to have the desired effect because the Pathfinder watched him leave, clearly vexed and slightly flushed.  
  
    Her thoughts wandered as her eyes followed the smuggler, taking a moment to admire his silhouette as he walked away before shaking herself out of it.  _Pull yourself together Wedns_ , she thought with exasperation.  _You have a job to do, remember?_  
  
    With a scowl for her behavior she opened her omni-tool and dialed Vetra’s frequency.    
  
    “Hey Ryder, what’s the news?”  
  
    “I have a lead on Vehn and a way to get to him, thanks to _Shena_ ,” she smirked.  “I’m going in now, but stand by in case I run into trouble.  Oh, and pick up Drack from Kralla’s or I’m not sure he’ll ever leave.”  
  
    She could hear the turian’s laughter.  “Don’t worry Ryder, I’m on it.”  
  
    Wednesday ended the call and slowly made her way toward the access tunnel Reyes had spoken of.  She checked for anyone watching before entering the code.  Shortly after, a panel slid open and she descended the metal steps below.  The short tunnel led upward and Wednesday peaked out.  “Anyone up there SAM?” she whispered.  
  
    “No heat signatures detected Ryder, the coast is clear.”  
  
    She pulled herself up and walked through the door.  As she entered the holding cell a lone angaran sat staring at the floor.  “Hey,” she hissed, trying to get his attention.  
  
    Vehn sighed and raised his eyes from the spot he’d been blankly staring at to focus on the Pathfinder.  “What do you want?” he demanded.  He merely sounded spent.  
  
    “The Archon’s ship.  Where is it?”  
  
    “This a new interrogation tactic?” he scoffed, “Sloane’s getting lazy.”  
  
    Wednesday rolled her eyes.  “I’m _not_ with Sloane,” she spat with more heat than was warranted.  “Efra sent me.  If you help I can get you back to the Resistance.”  
  
    Vehn shook his head and scoffed.  “So I’m trading one cell for another?”  
  
    “ _Look_ ,” she exclaimed with exasperation, “Sloane’s sharpening a spike for your head as we speak.  This is what you get when you make deals with the bad guy.”  
  
    The angara looked thoughtful for a moment.  “For all his faults, at least the old man’s not an executioner,” he murmured, as if making up his mind.  “Fine, I’ll tell you, but I never saw the ship myself.  I got my orders from a kett transponder.”    
  
    “Do you still have it?”  Wednesday asked hopefully.  
  
    “No, I buried it before I got arrested.  It should still be in the Badlands though.”  
  
    “Great,” Ryder muttered.  “The coordinates?”  Vehn gave them and then approached the bars.  “Here,” Wednesday held out the canister for him to take.  “This is your ticket outta here.  A Resistance contact will be waiting.”  
  
    With that she turned on her heel and headed for the door.  
  
    “Wait!”  Vehn called after her.  Wednesday stopped, but didn’t turn.  “Don’t you want to know why I did it?  Why I betrayed the Moshae?”  
  
    The Pathfinder took a deep breath, her words coming out flat.  “Not really.  It’s done.  She’s safe now.”  Without another word she left Vehn standing at the bars looking torn.  
  
    As she stepped back out into the warm Kadaran air SAM chimed in her ear.  “The coordinates to the transponder are outside the ceasefire zone, Pathfinder.  I suggest taking a team with you when you go.”  
  
    “I know SAM, but first there’s the matter of that drink I’m owed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments give me life xD


	3. Tartarus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wednesday meets with Reyes and gets roped into investigating the murders that are plaguing the port.

    “ _So_ …” Vetra prompted as she fell into step with Ryder.  “Drack tells me our Resistance contact isn’t _angaran_ at all.”  Amusement tinged her voice and her mandibles vibrated with barely contained laughter.    
  
    Wednesday glanced at her, suddenly wary.  “Yeah, it definitely took me by surprise,” she answered carefully; face neutral.  
  
    “Apparently he’s also rather good looking… for a human.”  
  
    The Pathfinder raised an eyebrow at her.  “I didn’t know you were into humans, V,” she smirked.  
  
    The turian didn’t raise to the jab.  Instead she merely shrugged.  “Drack’s words, not mine.”  
  
    “I was only being objective,” the old krogan grumbled.  
  
    “ _So_ ,” Vetra continued, “was this Vidal good looking, Ryder?”  She asked pointedly.  
  
    Wednesday swung her head from Drack back to Vetra in disbelief before setting her jaw and staring straight ahead.  She could already feel colour rising to her cheeks and desperately willed her heart to slow down.  “I didn’t really notice.”  
  
    Drack barked out a loud laugh, causing a few passerby to jump and look at him.  Wednesday winced.  “That’s not what _I_ heard,” Vetra replied, nudging the Pathfinder’s shoulder.  
  
    “Just admit it kid, I saw the whole thing.  You couldn’t keep your eyes off him.”  
  
    The Pathfinder’s gait stiffened, and if her face was flushed before, it was on fire now.  “That’s not - I wasn’t,” she stuttered angrily.  “We’re _not_ talking about this anymore.  And that’s an order!”  
  
    Drack and Vetra shared a knowing look above Ryder’s head.  Wednesday scowled and walked faster, but their laughter trailed after her.  She was in the middle of deliberating sending them back to the Tempest when she noticed a crowd of people milling in front of Kralla’s Song.    
  
    “What’s going on?  We don’t got all day,” Drack grumbled.  
  
    Vetra craned her head, trying to peer over the huddled mass.  “They’re gathered around… something.  It looks like a body,” she said with alarm.  
  
    Drack frowned and began to push through the crowd.  “Move over, krogan coming through!”    
  
    Wednesday followed in his wake until enough people had parted so she could get a good look.  The corpse was angaran and it looked fresh.  “I thought guns weren’t allowed in the city,” the Pathfinder muttered scanning the body.  
  
    “It seems like the cause of death was from a laceration,” SAM pointed out from the scan results.    
  
    “A knife _would_ be easy to conceal,” she mused.  Falling silent she listened to the hushed whispers around her.  
  
    “That’s the fourth body this week.”  
  
    “Who do you think is responsible?  The Charlatan?”  
  
    SAM spoke again, rousing Wednesday from her eavesdropping.  “Perhaps Mr. Vidal would have more information?”  
  
    “My thoughts exactly SAM.”  She hoped the AI hadn’t noticed the spike in her heart rate just at the thought of the charming smuggler.    
  
    SAM however, noticed everything.  
  


* * *

  
  
    “The slums, it’s like a city _under_ a city,” Wednesday murmured as they stepped off the elevator, officially leaving the port.  
  
    “Yes, and at it’s heart, Tartarus, a night club.  That is where Mr. Vidal said he’d be.”  
  
    Wednesday eyed the nondescript building skeptically.  It’s shabby metal facade nearly blended into the dull rock face it was built against.  The only thing that belied the club inside was the muted thrum of bass that leeched through the walls.  
  
    Ryder glanced at her companions before striding to the door.  As the thick metal panel slid open, the music enveloped her, vibrating through her and she sighed at the familiarity of the feeling.  During her college years Wednesday had practically lived at Afterlife, but the blaring music was where the similarities ended.  
  
    Where Aria’s exclusive nightclub on Omega was spacious, clean, and filled with bright neon lights Tartarus, on the other hand was dark, cramped, and dingy.  The interior reminded the Pathfinder of a dungeon, complete with metal cages surrounding the bar and dancers.  She even swore she felt water drip from the ceiling and down her collar.    
  
    Farther in, the room took on a reddish glow from the strips of neon lamps that ran along the walls.  Wednesday searched the patrons for Reyes; when she didn’t find him she approached the bar.    
  
    Vetra rolled her eyes as she watched the Pathfinder flirt with the bartender and down a free shot before strolling back over.  “Find out anything?” she asked, her words dripping sarcasm.  
  
    Wednesday smirked back, unashamed.  “Reyes is upstairs.”  She hesitated before continuing.  “You guys are welcome to stay here… if you’d… rather,” she shrugged, putting on her best _I don’t care either way_ face.  
  
    Vetra and Drack shared the same knowing look as before.  “Actually I’m curious as to what he has to say.  I think we’ll tag along.  That is, unless you have a reason for us not to?” the turian replied innocently.  
  
    The Pathfinder gave her a flat look that said she knew what they were up to and she wasn’t amused, but she turned on her heel and led the way up to Reyes’ private room.  As they entered Reyes looked up from the datapad in his hand.  
  
    “Ryder!  I’m glad you’re here.”  
  
    Wednesday smiled in return, but when she noticed Vetra watching her she dialed it back, _just a little_.  “These are two of my crew, Vetra Nyx and Nakmor Drack,” she introduced.  
  
    “A pleasure,” the smuggler’s grin took them in as well.  “Please, sit.”  Wednesday and Vetra took seats across the low table from him, while Drack preferred to lean against the wall near the door.  Reyes talked while he poured two drinks from the bottle in front of him.  “I got word from one of my colleagues.  Vehn Terev made it off Kadara safely, thanks to you.”  He glanced up at Wednesday as he spoke and the light caught in amber eyes causing her to lose her train of though for a moment.  Luckily she recovered in time to accept the glass he held out to her.  
  
    “C’mon Vidal, give yourself some credit.  You helped.  _A little_.”  Her mouth curled into a teasing grin as she sipped at her whiskey.  Somehow she knew that’s what it’d be.    
  
    Reyes raised his eyebrows in amusement at her sass.  “It’s always nice to be recognized,” he replied, a small smile playing at his lips.  He watched her intently for a moment before leaning back, glass in hand, his face turning somber.  “I’m sure you’ve already heard about the murders?”  
  
    The Pathfinder nodded.  “We passed a fresh body outside Kralla’s on the way here.  Some of the locals are saying it’s the Charlatan’s handiwork.”  
  
    Reyes looked thoughtful.  “I don’t buy it.  The Charlatan is discreet, careful.  Whoever did this, wanted the bodies to be found.”  
  
    Wednesday considered the thought, resting her glass against her cheek.  “Making a statement?”  
  
    “Yes, but to whom?”  
  
    She shrugged.  “Sloane?  Maybe they don’t like how she’s running things.”  
  
    “Ah, but less than a third of the victims are Outcasts,” Reyes countered.  “No, if I were a betting man - and I _am_ , I’d say it was the Roekar.”  
  
    “The Roekar?”  Vetra spoke up.  “Why would _they_ be in Kadara port?”  
  
    “It’s angaran built, and before Sloane took over, angaran run,” he shrugged.  
  
    “Yeah, but what about the angaran victims?” she pressed.  
  
    Reyes grinned like he knew something they didn’t.  “I’ve done my homework Ms. Nyx.  All of the deceased angara were _public_ Milky Way supporters.”  
  
    Wednesday cut in.  “So the victims either were from the Milky Way…”  
  
    “Or supported us,” Reyes finished, nodding.  “It’s the only pattern I could find.”  
  
    “An angaran port run by aliens _would_ be a prime target for their cause,” the Pathfinder mused.  
  
    “Yes, but the problem is, I have no proof and the Resistance is loathe to antagonize the Roekar without it.”  
  
    Wednesday sighed.  “Let me guess, this is where I come in, right?”  
  
    “I need that fancy AI of yours to scan for evidence that will implicate the Roekar.”  He spread his hands and made a show of concern.  “People are scared, Ryder.  This could be your opportunity to make friends in Kadara port.”  
  
    The Pathfinder thought it over for a moment, taking another sip from her glass.  “I sound _pretty_ integral to this plan,” she smirked, her eyes catching his.  
  
    Reyes chuckled.  “SAM is integral, you’re a _bonus_ ,” he exclaimed with distinction.  
  
    His words made Wednesday grin.  “You know, I haven’t actually agreed to help you yet,” she fired back jokingly.  
  
    The smuggler leaned forward, holding eye contact.  “I feel good about my chances.”  
  
    Wednesday rolled her eyes and knocked back the rest of her whiskey.  “Alright, so where am I scanning?”  
  
    “One of the murder scenes is outside the port, in the Badlands.  I’ll send you the coordinates.”  
  
    Vetra made to stand.  “Great, then we should probably get going.”  Wednesday pouted slightly, but made sure the turian didn’t see.  She sighed and stood as well, setting her empty glass on the table.  Vetra and Drack were already out the door when Reyes called her back.  
  
    “Ryder.”  
  
    “Yeah?” she answered quickly, turning back to him, kicking herself for seeming too eager.  
  
    Reyes hesitated.  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not exactly… liked here, in Kadara port.”  
  
    Wednesday’s face fell.  “Ouch,” she muttered.  
  
    “What I’m saying is, you need a friend," he clarified, "someone on the inside who can help you out.”  Reyes lips tugged into a grin.  “I can be that guy.”  Wednesday arched an eyebrow at him, tilting her head as if considering.  “You need intel on exiles, Sloane, _whatever_ \- you can come to me.”  
  
    “I’ll take you up on that,” she replied, letting her gaze linger before smiling to herself and turning away.  
  
    Reyes sat back watching her leave, an unreadable expression on his face.  Things had been set into motion, that was for sure, but he didn’t feel quite as certain as he felt he should have.  He took a sip from his untouched glass, thinking.  Ryder was a wild card, and while that was usually bad for business, he found he wanted to bet on her more and more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know these first three chapters have been a little on the short side, but I don't think that's a bad thing. *shrugs*  
> Anyway, as always let me know your thoughts. ^^ I love to hear what you're take on things are.


	4. The Badlands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wednesday and co. set out to find Vehn's missing transponder and investigate another murder, leading them to a fight with the Roekar, which Reyes is fashionably late to, as always.

     Wednesday sat in the driver’s seat muttering under her breath as the Nomad climbed a steep rise, following the hard packed trail of past tire tracks.  As they’d passed through the checkpoint the warden had warned the Pathfinder of the dangers of the Badlands.  When she assured him with a scoff that she could handle it, he’d looked up her and down skeptically.  _Skeptically._   And then she swore she heard him and the other Outcasts lounging around laugh at her as she left.  
  
    “You don’t think I can handle it?  Oh, I’ll show you who can handle it.  I’m the motherfuckin’ Pathfinder, asshole,” she grumbled under her breath.    
  
    “Ryder, don’t you think you’re taking this hill a little fast?”  Vetra asked anxiously, holding on to the handle above her head tightly.  
  
    Drack’s laughter rumbled from the back seat.  “You worry too much Nyx.  The kid knows what she’s doing,” he exclaimed fondly.  
  
    Wednesday perked up at the krogan’s words, a small smile cracking her lips.  Her bad mood began to fade with the rush of being in the driver’s seat and the beautiful scenery racing by.  She had to admit, Kadara was beautiful with it’s bright sunny skies, rugged terrain, and crystal clear lakes - as long as you didn’t touch the water, that is.  Wednesday decided it was probably her favourite planet in Heleus so far, even beating out exotic Aya for the top spot.  
  
    “Thanks old man,” the Pathfinder called.  “I don’t know why everyone kept freaking out about the Badlands, we haven’t even run into any outlaws yet.”  
  
    As soon as the words left her mouth gunfire sounded up ahead.  A lot of it.  Vetra grimaced as Wednesday threw on the brakes and the Nomad skidded to a halt, throwing up gravel as they stopped.  A large Initiative pre-fab structure loomed on their right and it was swarming with exiles.    
  
    “You were saying?” Vetra exclaimed dryly, glancing at Ryder.  The Pathfinder merely shrugged in response and grabbed her rifle.  
  
    “Looks like we’re gunna see some action after all,” Drack cackled; grinning toothily as he kicked open the hatch and leapt out, shotgun in hand.  
  
    “I got your back old man,” Ryder called following him into the fray.  Vetra groaned exasperatedly and took off after them.  
  
    After several of such stops they finally arrived at their destination.  Wednesday hopped out of the Nomad and without waiting for Vetra and Drack, took off in search of Vehn’s transponder.    
  
    “We’re nearing the coordinates that Vehn Terev provided us, Pathfinder.”  
  
    “I _know_ SAM,” she replied with a hint of annoyance.  It had taken them longer to arrive than she’d planned, with all the times they had to stop to take out more exiles, leaving the Pathfinder a little grumpy.  The transponder ended up buried under the steps of a small pre-fab building that looked to be used as a sort of hostel for those exiled from the port.  Well, those who could pay for lodging anyway.    
  
    By the time her teammates caught up to her, she was already brushing dirt off her armor, transponder in hand.  “Ta-da!” Wednesday exclaimed holding the device out proudly.  
  
    The other two looked at it blankly.  “Hate to break it to ya kid, but that thing’s dead.”  
  
    The Pathfinder looked down at it and shrugged.  “We’ll just have Gil juice it back up and work his magic on it, no problem,” she replied optimistically.    
  
    Vetra rolled her eyes.  “Come on Ryder, the murder scene Vidal wanted us to check out is just over there.”  As she nudged the Pathfinder toward the flat next door she shook her head and grinned.  
  
    Wednesday opened up a comlink as they approached.  “Reyes, we’re at the crime scene.”  
  
    “Great.  Glad you made it through the Badlands in one piece, Ryder.”  
  
    A grin tugged at her lips.  “You doubted me?  Reyes, I’m hurt.”  
  
    Vetra sighed and stepped through the door first.  “Let’s just get scanning Ryder.”  Wednesday stuck her tongue out at the turian’s back and opened her omni-tool.    
  
    “Okay, I’ve got intel for you on our dead guy,” Reyes began as Wednesday stepped into the dark apartment.  “Krogan male.  Name of Zear.  The report says his frontal plate was torn off before he was shot to death.”  
  
    “Shit,” Drack muttered.  
  
    “Poor bastard,” Wednesday agreed.  
  
    “Seems like overkill to me,” Vetra pointed out.  “The Roekar have a strong hate for aliens.  It would make sense for them to be so brutal.”  
  
    “Finding anything Ryder?”  Reyes prompted.  
  
    Wednesday’s scanner picked up several jumbled sets of footprints.  “These are distinctly angaran, Pathfinder,” SAM announced.  
  
    “Yeah Reyes, I’ve got angaran footprints all over in here and it’s hard to tell, but I’m thinking there were at least three of them.  It looks like an ambush.  Zear didn’t stand a chance.”  
  
    “Hmm, it fits the profile of the Roekar’s tactics, but we’ll need more.”  
  
    The scanner pinged again and SAM elaborated.  “Angaran blood.”  
  
    “Looks like Zear must have injured one of them in the struggle.”  
  
    Reyes sighed over the coms.  “It’s apparent he was killed by angara, but we have nothing concrete to tie it to the Roekar.”  
  
    Wednesday frowned and retraced her steps, following the killers’ footsteps back outside.  “Where’re you going?  Wedns?”  Vetra called after her.  
  
    The scanner pinged and Ryder’s excited shout drew her squad.  “Check it out,” she exclaimed holding a medium-sized knife in her hand.  “It has something etched into it.  Looks like shelesh.  SAM, can you translate?”  
  
    “It reads ‘ _A home filled with strangers becomes a prison_.’”   
  
    “That _definitely_ sounds like the Roekar,” Vetra mused.  
  
    “Great work Ryder.  That should be enough evidence to prove the Roekar were behind this,” Reyes exclaimed.  “Now let’s go pay them a little visit.”  
  
    “Wait, you know where they are?”  Wednesday asked, surprised.  
  
    “I haven’t just been sitting on my ass this whole time,” Reyes remarked indignantly.  “I’m looking at the place right now!”  
  
    The Pathfinder snorted as she made her way back to the Nomad.  “No need to get so riled up Reyes.  I believe you.”  
  
    “Cute Ryder, very cute,” he replied dryly.  
  
    “Glad you noticed,” she laughed in response and buckled herself in behind the wheel.  “See you soon,” she exclaimed cheerfully.  
  
    The drive to the Roekar base was, thankfully, rather uneventful.  They only had to stop once to fight enemies.  Wednesday cut off the engine at the new set of coordinates Reyes had sent.  
  
    “Well this is the place,” Drack announced.  “Think Reyes is actually gunna show up?”  
  
    “He said he was already here,” Wednesday replied offhandedly, grabbing her gear.  
  
    “And you _trust_ him?”  Vetra asked.  
  
    The question made the Pathfinder pause.  “I mean… I guess so.  He hasn’t given me a reason to doubt him yet.”  
  
    Vetra shrugged.  “Just be careful is all I’m saying.  The guy’s a smuggler, after all.”  
  
    Wednesday rolled her eyes.  “Weren’t you a smuggler for a while, V?”  
  
    Drack guffawed loudly and clapped a large hand to the turian’s shoulder as he passed.  “Kid’s got you there, Nyx.”  
  
    As they entered the front door of the compound Wednesday’s face fell.  Reyes was no where to be seen.  “Reyes should be here…” she muttered under her breath, worry bubbling in her gut.  _Maybe something happened to him?_ she wondered.  
  
    Vetra almost remarked a ‘ _see, I told you so_ ’, but the hurt in Ryder’s voice stopped her.  “Wedns, is there something going on… between you and Reyes?” she asked cautiously.  
  
    Wednesday glanced at her teammates over her shoulder.  “That’s not…” she began crossly, only to be interrupted by the door ahead of them sliding open and a group of Roekar pouring out.    
  
    “Don’t move!”  one of them commanded, pointing a gun at Wednesday’s chest.  The three held up their hands.  
  
    “Oops, were we too loud?”  The Pathfinder asked jokingly, but it came out halfheartedly.  
  
    The Roekar took their weapons and shoved them forward into the next room, which opened up into a large cavern.  Angara were everywhere, training and sparring.  A green and blue female strode toward them through the center of the activity.  When she stopped a few feet away, she crossed her arms and glared at them with disgust.    
  
    “I don’t need to tell you what happens next,” she stated.  Her voice was hard, with the air of command.  
  
    Wednesday sighed.  “You’re going to try to kill me and my friends, but I have some questions first.”  
  
    “No!” the angaran woman snapped, brandishing a knife similar to the one they’d found at the murder scene.  “You’ll bleed, just like the others.”  
  
    “So it’s true then.  You killed innocent people.”  
  
    “Invaders and sympathizers are not _innocent_.  I will protect my home!” she fired back passionately.  
  
    “Don’t let your hate poison you.  We _can_ coexist.”  Wednesday tried to reason with her.  
  
    “Oh, like here on Kadara?” the angara scoffed.  “Sloane lies to my people and uses them as stepping stones for power.  
  
    “I’m _not_ Sloane,” Wednesday exclaimed heatedly.  
  
    “You are _all_ the same.”   
  
    Suddenly a shot rang out, echoing in the cavern and the the angara leader cried out as the knife was knocked from her hand.  
  
    “Not so fast,” Reyes exclaimed, rushing into the room holding a kett rifle and coming to stop at Wednesday’s side.  
  
    “You’re late,” she grumbled at him.  
  
    “I have a good reason,” he said as he glanced at her.  “You’ll see in three, two…”    
  
    The angara woman began shouting at her troops, and they rushed for their weapons.  Before Reyes could count to one, a set of explosions shook the cave, catching several Roekar in the blast, killing them instantly, and knocking many others to the ground.  
  
    Reyes looked up at Wednesday with a small smirk.  “Still mad?”  
  
    She pursed her lips in exasperation before grabbing her own rifle back from the body of the angara that had taken it from her.  Finding cover she brought her scope to her eye and began picking her targets, taking out her frustration on the Roekar.  She noticed out of the corner of her eye Reyes keeping close to her, watching her back, and picking off any enemies that tried to flank her.  She smiled slightly to herself and took another head shot.    
  
    When the last of the Roekar fell Wednesday stood and slung her rifle over her shoulder.  Drack was already looting several of the bodies.  Reyes was silent, but he looked thoughtful.  It wasn’t until they had climbed back up to the entrance that the smuggler spoke.  
  
    “The streets of Kadara are safe again.  You did good Ryder.”  He smiled broadly at her.  “Don’t worry, I’ll let all the important people know who to thank.”  
  
    Wednesday found herself grinning back, her annoyance at him for earlier already forgotten.  “Y’know, we make a good team.”  
  
    “Careful Ryder, I might start thinking you like me,” Reyes said with a low chuckle to ease the tension.  
  
    As she brushed past him, their chests nearly touched, and Wednesday hesitated, her dark eyes trained on his.  “Would that be so bad?”  Her voice was pitched low, for his ears alone, but it held a hint of uncertainty.  
  
    Reyes watched her, feeling a little uncertain himself.  If only she knew just _how_ bad that could be.  Ryder held the power to make or break all his carefully laid plans.  “ _Depends_ ,” he finally answered, holding her gaze. “Don’t be a stranger Pathfinder.”  
  
    Wednesday watched the smuggler turn to leave, barely daring to breathe.  Her thoughts were a fuzzy jumble that she couldn’t seem to get to focus.  It took Vetra calling her name several times before she snapped out of it, but as she drove the Nomad back to the port, her thoughts kept wandering.


	5. Pent Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wednesday needs to get away from her crew and Reyes has a hard time keeping his mind off her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No canon here in this chapter lol.

Back on the Tempest, the crew was already waiting around the vidcon as soon as Ryder came aboard, each with a new piece of important news for the Pathfinder to hear.    
  
    Wednesday stood at the head of the console, head swimming, trying to keep up with everyone arguing over each other.  Suddenly they all looked to her.  She sighed and tried to make her voice as authoritative as possible… and failing miserably.  After she’d spoken the others began drifting away.    
  
    “Hey!  I didn’t say you could leave,” she exclaimed indignantly.  The crew stopped and looked back at her, many with raised eyebrows.  “Meeting adjourned.  As you were.”  There were several groans as the crew ambled out.  
  
    “Ryder, can I talk to you?”  Cora asked, waiting near the stairs.  
  
    “I guess,” Wednesday answered warily.  
  
    “I read Vetra’s report about your activities in the port and the Badlands these past two days.”  
  
    “Why do I get the feeling there’s a lecture incoming?”  
  
    Cora looked at her sternly as she followed the Pathfinder down toward the lower deck.  “This Resistance contact you’ve been working with,” she hesitated and looked over at Wednesday whose jaw was already set and who walked with eyes ahead, not even glancing in Cora’s direction.  “I just think it would be wise not to trust him too much.”  
  
    “And who says I _trust_ him?”    
  
    “According to Vetra, you’re getting awfully _friendly_ …”  
  
    Wednesday was nearly to her and Liam’s usual hang out spot when she spun to face her second-in-command.  “Yes, I flirted with the guy a little, that’s it,” she snapped.  “Am I not allowed to have a life at all now?”  
  
    “That’s not…” Cora exclaimed trying to get a word in.  
  
    “If you have a problem with the way I handle myself, then that’s _your_ problem.  I didn’t ask for this job you know, and I’m not going to change myself to fit into what your conception of a Pathfinder should be.”  She punched in the door code.  “Now, if there’s nothing else, I have a meeting with an ice cold beer.”  
  
    Cora opened her mouth as if to say more, but Wednesday quickly stepped inside and shut the door in her face.  
  
    “You and Cora fighting again?”  Liam asked from his seat on the couch.  
  
    Wednesday heaved a large sigh.  “No, we’re having a… disagreement,” she answered, plopping down next to her friend.    
  
    Liam snorted as he handed her a beer.  “Sure, whatever you wanna call it _Pathfinder_ ,” he exclaimed with a grin.  
  
    “Please don’t call me that right now.”  She rolled her eyes, but accepted the bottle, instantly taking a sip.  They sat drinking in companionable silence for a while until Wednesday’s omni-tool pinged with an incoming message.  Glancing down at her wrist, she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face.  
  
     _You’re making waves, Ryder.  I spread the news at Tartarus and the port of your expert handling of the Roekar.  I only made a few embellishments and left out my involvement, of course.  Wouldn’t want to steal your spotlight._  
_Reyes_  
  
    Although Liam couldn’t read what it said, he noticed Ryder’s reaction and arched a curious eyebrow at her.  “Who’s that from?”  
  
    She quickly turned off the device on her wrist and focused on her beer.  After taking a large gulp she shook her head lightly.  “No one.”  
  
    “Uh huh, I’m not buying it.”  Liam snorted, but fell silent.  He looked like he wanted to say something else, but was deliberating whether or not he should.  Fiddling with the label on his beer bottle he finally spoke up.  “Hey Wedns… about this Vidal guy…”  
  
    The Pathfinder groaned and squeezed her eyes shut.  “Oh not you too!”  
  
    “Hey c’mon, I’m just curious.”  
  
    “Nope.  Not talking about this,” Wednesday stated standing up.  
  
    “Hey, where’re you going?”  
  
    “Out,” she answered curtly.  
  
    “Out where?”  Liam stuttered half raising to follow her.  
  
    “I’m going dancing,” she announced.    
  
    “Great, I’ll come with.”  
  
    “ _No_.”  Ryder’s exclamation stopped Liam in his tracks and he sunk back down to the couch.  “I’m sorry Liam, I just… I need to blow off some steam.  _Alone_.”  
  
    Wednesday felt bad about snapping at her friend, but she wasn’t in the mood for anymore teasing or probing questions.  She already had enough on her plate with the kett, Sloane, and the exiles; not to mention all the other problems cropping up in other systems that needed taken care of.  
  
    The constant stress of being the Pathfinder was getting to her and Wednesday’d decided long ago that she would revel in and hold on to the things that made her smile, no matter how insignificant.  So if a little harmless flirting made her days go by faster, then she wasn’t going to stop.  


* * *

  
  
    Reyes groaned and sat the report down, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.  Checking the time on his omni-tool, he was surprised to find how late it was already.  He needed a break, some fresh air, and maybe another bottle of whiskey.  As he stepped through the sliding door, the pounding of the music assailed him.  it was easy to forget just how loud it was in the main room after being holed up for hours.  
  
    The smuggler stretched languidly and leaned against the guard rail, looking down over the club.  His eyes skimmed over the small group of dancing patrons in the corner and froze.  In the center of the fray he spotted a flash of blue hair.  Craning his neck to get a better view he thought maybe he’d just imagined it.  Ryder _had_ been on his mind a lot lately.  But no, there she was.  A few of the dancers moved giving him a perfect view of her.  She’d shed her jacket from the heat and danced with her eyes closed; twisting and gyrating, lost in the music.  
  
    And Reyes found himself lost in her.  
  
    He entertained the idea of going down there.  He wasn’t a bad dancer himself.  In his mind’s eye he watched himself come up behind her, placing his hands at her waist and pulling her into him.  She matched her pace to his, swaying and grinding against him.  Arching her back she reached up behind her, slipping her hand along his neck and pulling him down to reach his lips.  His hands moved from her waist to rove up and down and her body, slipping under clothing to find her warm flushed skin just waiting to be touched.  
  
    Heat suffused him and Reyes felt desire pool low in his stomach at the images he’d conjured up.  Ryder must have felt his gaze on her because suddenly she was looking back at him.  Without missing a beat she winked at him, a dangerous smile curving her dark lips.  She grabbed her jacket and slung it over her shoulder as she climbed the stairs.    
  
    Joining Reyes at the railing she leaned back, resting her elbows against the cool metal.  “See something you like down there?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at him.    
  
    Reyes glanced at her, his eyes flicking down and back up quickly.  “I didn’t know you were such a talented dancer,” he remarked instead, evading her very leading question.  
  
    Wednesday smiled in response, her eyes bright.  “I love dancing,” she answered simply.  “And what about you Reyes, do you dance?”  
  
    A slow grin spread across his face.  “I’m not bad.  Perhaps if you play your cards right, I’ll even show you sometime, Ryder.”  
  
    The Pathfinder giggled.  “I’d like that.”  Her words didn’t hold their usual flirtatiousness and Reyes was a little taken aback by how honest she sounded.  When he realized how intently she was watching him he quickly cleared his throat and gestured back toward his personal room.  “You want a drink?”  
  
    “I won’t say no to free alcohol,” she smirked.  
  
    Reyes raised an eyebrow.  “And who said _I_ was paying?” he exclaimed in mock seriousness.  
  
    Wednesday punched his arm playfully.  “You don’t invite someone to drink with you and then leave them with the bill!  Oh wait, this is Reyes Vidal I’m talking to,” she exclaimed with a pointed look.  
  
    “I’m fairly certain we’re even now,” he chuckled.  “The last time you to came to Tartarus, I paid for the first round, remember?  I think you’re just trying to take advantage of my kindness, Pathfinder,” he drawled, a smirk playing at his lips.  
      
    Wednesday pushed off the railing and spun to face him in one fluid motion.  “ _Me_ , take advantage of _you_?  Sounds like fun,” she purred under her breath, her face dangerously close to his before she stepped back, turning on her heel to enter his private room.  
  
    Reyes swallowed thickly at her sudden proximity just moments ago.  His eyes followed the sway of her hips as she walked away.    
  
    She stopped in the doorway and glanced back over her shoulder at him.  “You coming Vidal?”  He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath before following her.    
  
    Wednesday settled on the sofa and rested her feet on the edge of the coffee table in front of her.  Reyes stopped at the small intercom on the wall to request a fresh bottle be sent up before joining her.  As he sat down he noticed her eyes on him, lingering, like a lover’s caress, and he allowed himself to admire her as well.  
  
    Wednesday Ryder was undeniably attractive, in fact, everything about her was hard to ignore - from her stunning looks, to her cutting wit, her deadly aim, and that husky laugh that sent shivers down his spine.  Reyes found he couldn’t look away, held captive by her eyes and the lingering thoughts from earlier circling in his head.  
  
    Those thoughts were interrupted when Kian entered with a fresh bottle of whiskey and two glasses.  He must have seen Ryder join him.  The bartender poured the first round, sliding one glass across the table to him and handing the other to Wednesday with a grin.  He bent down and murmured something in her ear that Reyes couldn’t hear.  She grinned at whatever he’d said and turned to whisper something back to him before he departed.  
  
    Reyes frowned at the sudden flare of jealousy he felt burning in his chest, and snatched his glass from the table, taking a long draw of whiskey and hoping the burn would take his mind away from that thought.  He was _not_ jealous.  
  
    “Hey Reyes,” Ryder exclaimed suddenly, seemingly oblivious to what she was putting him through.  
  
    “Yes?” he replied, his mask slipping back into place.  
  
    “I’ve been wondering, how long have you been working with the Resistance?”  
  
    “A few months.  When Sloane saved the port from the kett, Evfra wanted eyes and ears on the ground.  He figured people would be more forthcoming with one of their kind.”  Reyes shrugged.  “He was right.”  
  
    Wednesday looked thoughtful, like she wanted to ask more.  She sipped her drink and then continued, “You said before that I could come to you for any information, right?”  
  
    Without missing a beat, he answered.  “Of course.  What do you want to know, Ryder?’  
  
    “I’ve been hearing a lot about the Collective and their mysterious leader, the _Charlatan_ … but I don’t really know much about them.”  
  
    Reyes leaned back, watching the Pathfinder over his drink.  “And what about the Collective do you wish to know?  Unfortunately I probably can’t tell you much.”  
  
    She shrugged, fidgeting with the glass in her hand.  “I think by now it’s fairly obvious, at least, to you, that I don’t much care for Sloane, and I have a feeling she’s going to make it difficult for me to get an outpost set up here.  So if there’s another option, I’d like to explore it.  I want to contact the Collective.”  She looked up at him, determination radiating off her.  “Do you have any idea where I might find them?”  
  
    Reyes fought back a grin.  The Pathfinder was playing into his plans perfectly.  “I’ve heard rumors that they have a swanky hideout somewhere in the caves at Draullir.  Perhaps you should start your search there.”  He shrugged, nonchalantly.   
  
    Ryder nodded to herself filing the information away, and Reyes made a mental note to have an announcement sent out to his people _not_ to harm the Pathfinder under any circumstances.  
  
    “You know,” he exclaimed, “I’m a little jealous.  The Charlatan is a better nickname than _Shena_ ,” he scoffed.  
  
    Wednesday smirked.  “That reminds me, what _does_ Shena mean?” she asked curiously.  
  
    “Ah…” Reyes hesitated, “it’s the angaran word for… mouth,” he answered with a wry twist of his lips.  “I’m good with _words_ ,” he explained.  
  
    Wednesday cocked an eyebrow at him.  “Among _other_ things?” she asked suggestively.  At her words, Reyes caught himself wondering what sort of things _her_ mouth would be good at.  The knowing smirk she directed at him when she caught him staring spoke volumes.  
  
    Moments ago Reyes had felt almost back to normal in the a middle of a somewhat serious conversation with the Pathfinder, and just like that, with only a few words she’d managed to pull his mind right back to places it shouldn’t be.  It probably didn’t help that Reyes felt incredibly pent up recently.  It had been a _while_ since he’d been with anyone, he reflected, and there was only so much he could take care of on his own.  
  
    “I’ve never had any complaints,” he drawled in response.   
  
    There was a palpable tension in the room, one that Reyes felt whenever she was near.  He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been such a temptation to him, and Ryder seemed the type who wasn’t one to shy away from casual sex.  _Maybe if they just_ …  
  
    He firmly forced his thoughts away from such fantasies before they could go any further.  It was all too easy to get pulled into them when Ryder was involved, and though pleasurable, he couldn’t afford to be distracted by the Pathfinder, no matter how alluring those fantasies were.  Mixing business and pleasure was a slippery slope - one that Reyes refused to get caught on.  He had always considered himself a man of self-control, but never before had he had such difficultly keeping that rule in mind.    
  
    He cleared his throat to speak, just as Ryder did.  
  
    “It’s ah, it’s pretty late,” she murmured.  “I’d better head back.”  She made to stand and for a brief moment Reyes wished she wouldn’t leave, before mentally berating himself.  All the more reason for her to go, if he started thinking that way.  He watched her head to the door and stop to look back at him. “I guess I’ll see you around Vidal.”  It was almost a question.  
  
    Reyes found himself grinning back.  “Ryder, I meant what I said earlier.  Don’t be a stranger.”    
  
    She flashed a mysterious smile that did strange things to his pulse, and then she was gone.  Reyes exhaled loudly and let his head fall backward.  He should probably be getting home as well.  He’d gone over his three drink limit and his head felt fuzzy.  However, how much of that was from the alcohol and how much was because of the Pathfinder, he couldn’t say.  
  
    Reyes remembered the way she’d moved on the dance floor and groaned low in his throat, pressing his palms to his eyes.  Before standing to leave he tipped back the last of his drink.  If he was going to have any hope of falling asleep that night there was a little matter he’d need to take care of once he returned to his flat, or he’d be up all night with Ryder dancing through his mind.


	6. Druallir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wednesday finds the Collective's secret hide out, argues with Liam, and ends the day sharing a drink with a certain smuggler.

     Wednesday woke to SAM’s chiding tone telling her it was time to start the day.  She flipped over to her stomach, burying her face into her pillow.  “SAM, I’m awake,” she mumbled, “you can shut up now!”  Her words were muffled by the pillow, but SAM obeyed.  
  
    “I’m sorry Pathfinder, but this _is_ the time you set your alarm for.”  
  
    “I _know_ ,” Wednesday groaned, stretching.  She realized with pleasant surprise that she actually felt awake and not groggy, like usual.  She’d slept soundly for the first time in a long while.  All the dancing from the night before must have worn her out more than she’d realized.  Blushing, she also reflected it could have _something_ to do with the extra attention she’d payed herself in the shower after returning to the ship.  She allowed her mind to wander back to the tantalizing fantasies that had helped her find release and then followed her to her dreams.  
  
    “Pathfinder, are you well?  I am reading a spike in temperature and heart rate.”  
  
    With a start Wednesday realized she was winding herself back up and attempted to force her thoughts away from a certain shady smuggler with striking amber eyes, but the way she’d caught him watching her last night on the dance floor was making that hard to do.  
  
    “I’m _fine_ SAM,” she explained, feeling her face flush even more from embarrassment.  She thought she’d gotten used to having the AI sharing her head space, but this was entirely different.  She hadn’t really given any thought to the fact that SAM would be able to see and feel every intimate detail of her sex life.  
  
    “SAM?”  She took a deep breath before continuing.  “Is there some way I can, I dunno, turn you off for a short period of time whenever I need to be alone… or alone with someone else?” she amended.  
  
    “Yes Ryder, just let me know whenever you wish to have some privacy and I will busy myself elsewhere.”  
  
    “That would’ve been nice to know last night,” she muttered, pushing herself out of bed.  Getting dressed, she thought on what Reyes had said about the location of Collective's hide out, and made up her mind to seek them out.

  
    Not even halfway to Druallir Wednesday was already regretting her decision to bring Jaal and Liam along with her.  She’d felt bad about how she’d left things with Liam the night before, and she thought Jaal might enjoy seeing more of Kadara, but all either of them did was complain.    
  
    “Even the water is like a festering wound that not even the strongest medicine can heal,” Jaal bemoaned.  
  
    “Should I send you back to the Tempest?”  Wednesday groaned from the driver’s seat of the Nomad.  
  
    “Is that an option?”  the angara quipped hopefully.  
  
    Grinding her teeth as she drove, Wednesday found herself missing - _missing_ Drack and Vetra’s teasing.  Of course they had to stop to deal with more gun toting exiles along the way _and_ ended up offering to help search for some stolen components from the wind farm that powered the port.  Hearing how Sloane offered the workers no extra help and very limited resources to begin with only managed to sour the Pathfinder’s mood even more.  She found herself looking forward to a drink at Tartarus when they returned… and not _only_ because she wanted an excuse to see Reyes again.  
  
    “We are approaching Druallir now, Pathfinder,” SAM announced, cutting through her daydreams.  
  
    “In shelesh, Druallir means ‘ _death caves_ ’,” Jaal explained.    
  
    “That’s not dramatic or anything,” Liam replied with a grin.  
  
    Wednesday slowed the Nomad, as an entrance to the cave appeared.  “Looks like just the place to start our search.”  She parked the vehicle near the opening and they piled out.  As they walked inside Liam clapped a hand over his nose and mouth.   
  
    “Ugh, it smells even stronger in here than outside!”  His exclamation came out muffled, causing Wednesday to cackled with laughter.    
  
    “Come on, ya big baby!” she called, forging ahead.  The enclosed path soon opened up into a large cavern that echoed their voices back to them and branched off into several more tunnels.  
  
    “Great,” Liam groaned looking around, “now which way are we supposed to go?”  
  
    Wednesday, undeterred, clapped a hand to his shoulder and grinned.  “Guess we’ll just have to pick one and if we don’t find anything, we’ll just double back and choose a different trail.”  When she moved on Liam turned to Jaal, who merely shrugged and followed after her.    
  
    “You seem to be in a rather good mood today, Ryder,” the angara pointed out.  
  
    “Really?” she scoffed, her attention on the rocky trail ahead of her.  
  
    “Compared to last night, yes.”  
  
    The Pathfinder glanced back and shrugged.  “I went out last night and let off some steam on the dance floor, so I guess that helped.”  
  
    “I see,” Jaal mused, just as Liam asked, “and where did you go?”  
  
    “Tartarus,” she answered warily.  
  
    “I knew it!” Liam exclaimed.  “You went to see -”  
  
    The rest of his accusation was cut off by a loud guttural howl and the sound of stampeding footfalls.  “Eirochs!”  Jaal called as two of the oversized beasts rounded the corner.  
  
    Wednesday gave a loud ‘whoop’ and charged forward, assault rifle in hand.  If Scott were there he would have given her grief about what a terrible tactician she was.  For a sniper, she liked to move about the field, switching between offensive to defensive on the fly.  
  
    “Wedns wait!”  Liam called, rushing after her.  She alternated between emptying a clip into one of the monsters and hurling fireballs and overload charges at the other.  As Liam caught up, one of the eirochs spat a glob of corrosive acid, taking the Pathfinder in the chest.  She gasped as her shields went down and froze where she was.  
  
    Luckily, Jaal was behind laying down covering fire while Liam ran straight for the closest beast; charging forward, biotics flaring.  The eiroch lurched, as his omni-blades pierced it’s chest and then fell to the ground heavily.  Wednesday recovered quickly, switching to her Isharay to finish off the remaining hulking creature from cover, her heart hammering wildly.  
  
    Once the battle was over Liam hurried to the Pathfinder, a blend of worry and anger painting his features.  “What the _hell_ were you thinking Wedns?” he demanded.  
  
    Wednesday got to her feet, ignoring his outstretched hand and standing on her own.  The chest plate of her armor was badly pitted where the acid had eaten through.  She winced realizing she'd need to buy a new chest plate.   
  
    “You could’ve got yourself killed like that,” Liam continued, frowning when she refused his help.  
  
    “Yeah, but I didn’t,” she fired back.  
  
    The ex-cop heaved a large sigh and followed after her.  “Wedns, I can’t help but get the feeling you’re pissed at me.”  
  
    “Why would you think that?” she replied acerbically.   
  
    “Uh I dunno, rushing ahead without a plan, not accepting my help, running off last night on me to see that smuggler,” he finished bitterly.  
  
    “And the truth comes out,” she muttered under her breath.  “I can’t help but get the feeling you’re jealous,” she said, loud enough for him to hear.  
  
    “Wha- I’m not… jealous,” he spluttered.  “Why would I be?”  
  
    “Then why are you acting so weird?” she snapped back.  
  
    “I hate to interrupt,” Jaal exclaimed, “but perhaps you should watch your step Ryder.”  
  
    “Huh?”  Wednesday glanced down and stifled a yelp as she jumped away from the body of a dead salarian next to her foot.  Liam caught her as she stumbled against him, helping her regain her balance before quickly removing his hands from her waist.  The distraction effectively put a stop to their argument.    
  
    Liam cleared his throat awkwardly.  “Looks like the missing surveyor,” he murmured.  
  
    “I wonder what killed him?  The Collective, Outcasts, or possibly those eirochs?” Jaal listed bitterly as the Pathfinder scanned the body.  
  
    “Gravity,” SAM interjected through her omni-tool.  
  
    “What?” all three of them exclaimed.  
  
    “The surveyor fell to his death, probably while collecting beryte samples.”  
  
    “Huh,” Wednesday grunted and bent down to search the corpse.  “Might as well take the samples back to his employer, so his death wasn’t completely in vain.”  
  
    The group doubled back as the cave dead ended.  Back in the main cavern Wednesday stopped to deliberate which path to take next.  “We better find _something_ , for all the effort we’re putting in,” Liam grumbled.  The Pathfinder bristled at his tone, but didn’t snap at him.  Instead she took a calming breath and chose a new route.  
  
    Soon they came across a small generator purring away and Wednesday directed a smug smile at her companions.  Liam rolled his eyes, but followed the wires that snaked further down the tunnel, leading to a floodlight that lit up the rocky walls, casting eerie shadows.  Wednesday cried out triumphantly as they rounded another corner and she spotted a door at the bottom of some crudely cut steps. 

    As soon as she stepped through the door she froze, standing face to face with an asari and a salarian who pointed his gun at her face.  “Whoa!” she exclaimed holding up her hands.  
  
    The asari’s eyes widened in surprise.  “Hold it!  Don’t shoot!” she exclaimed, pushing the salarian’s rifle down.    
  
    “Sorry Pathfinder, you’re free to pass.  Charlatan’s orders; you’re not to be harmed.”  
  
    Wednesday’s brows climbed, but she grinned.  “Awful nice of the Charlatan.”  
  
    The asari smirked back.  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say the Charlatan likes you.  You're the first outsider to be allowed here.”  The asari continued, introducing herself as Lynx and pointed them in the direction of the woman in charge of the Collective headquarters nestled at the back of the cavernous room.  
  
    The Pathfinder nodded and took off in the direction Lynx had indicated.  “This looks like some creepy evil villain type shit,” Liam muttered and winced when Wednesday shot a glare his way.  “Well, it does,” he insisted.  
  
    After meeting Crux Wednesday had to admit she was impressed.  From what she’d seen of the Collective already, they were intelligent and organized.  Not to mention the Charlatan’s order for her not to be harmed, which she took as a sign of goodwill, and possibly a willingness to work together, while Sloane on the other hand had shown her nothing but contempt.  
  
    She listened to Crux’s dilemma about a series of false orders and offered to help look into the matter, which of course, Liam rolled his eyes at.  
  


* * *

    
      
    There was a knock at the door before it slid open and Ryder poked her head in.  “You busy Reyes?” she asked.  
  
    Reyes set down the report he was reading and grinned at her.  “For you Ryder, I _always_ have time.”  
  
    The Pathfinder seemed pleased with his answer, wearing a small grin as she entered.  She carried in a fresh bottle and set it on the table.  Reyes lifted an eyebrow at her as she plopped down next to him.  
  
    “You trying to get me drunk Ryder?” he laughed.  
  
    Wednesday smirked in response and poured herself a glass.  “Now where’s the fun in that?” she purred, leaning back.    
  
    Reyes sat back as well, balancing his foot across his other knee.  “Is this going to become a regular thing?”  When Ryder looked at him quizzically, he clarified, “Drinking together after work?”  
  
    “Would that be so bad?”  
  
    The reiteration of her words at the Roekar base made Reyes falter.  He flashed a rakish grin at her before taking a long draw from his own glass to mask his slip.  “I’m not complaining,” he said finally.  
  
     Wednesday laughed suddenly and he reveled in the sound.  “Is that because of the booze or my company?” she asked smirking.  
  
    “Both.” Reyes answered simply, winking at her.  
  
    The Pathfinder took a sip and smiled to herself, her eyes flicking to his.  “You were right you know.”  
  
    “ _About_?”  
  
    “Druallir.  I found the Collective’s secret hideout,” she exclaimed proudly, grinning wickedly.  
  
    At her words, Reyes had to feign surprise.  He’d heard of her arrival from Crux soon after it’d happened.  “No shit?” he laughed, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin.  
  
    “ _Shit_ ,” she responded sarcastically.  
  
    Reyes rolled his eyes in amusement.  “So what’s the Charlatan like?  Or… wasn’t he there?”  
  
    At this Wednesday sighed.  “Wasn’t there… not like I really expected him, or her, to be.”  She quickly brightened though.  “But hey, they let me in and I even helped them out with something, so that’s a step in the right direction.”  She took another drink before continuing. “It’s weird though,” she mused, “it’s almost like they were expecting me.  When I first arrived, this asari told me that I wasn’t to be harmed, Charlatan’s orders.”  
  
    “The Charlatan obviously thinks highly of you,” Reyes observed.  
  
    The Pathfinder looked thoughtful.  “I guess, but I dunno, how do they _know_ I can be trusted?  It doesn’t seem like the Charlatan to take a chance like that.  I keep wondering if maybe I’ve already met them and I don’t even know it.”  
  
    Alarm bells went off in Reyes’ head.  He couldn’t allow her to continue down _that_ line of thought.  It was too uncomfortably close to the truth.  “Ryder,” he chuckled, “you make waves wherever you go.  _Everyone’s_ interested in you.”  
  
    “ _Everyone_?" she replied arching an eyebrow at him dangerously.  
  
    Reyes cleared his throat.  _Watch yourself Vidal_ , he thought dryly.  “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find you interesting, Pathfinder.”  He noticed the way her dark lips twitched at his evasion.  “From the moment I met you, I was intrigued.”  
  
    Wednesday leaned forward, her chin in her hand.  “Oh?  Tell me more,” she smirked, delighted.  
  
    Reyes couldn’t help but mirror her expression.  “To be honest, you weren’t what I expected.”  
  
    “And what _were_ you expecting?”  
  
    “Someone more like your crew mate Ms. Harper,” he answered honestly.  “Serious, professional, Initiative through and through.”  
  
    Wednesday snorted.  “Sorry to disappoint.”  
  
    Reyes chuckled.  “You misunderstand me.  I _like_ that you’re not like that.”  
  
    Her smirk faded and she looked at him with surprise.  “Not exactly used to hearing that,” she admitted.  
  
    “Well, it’s the truth,” he shrugged.  
  
    Neither of them spoke for a moment and Reyes wondered what she was thinking about.  Suddenly she turned back to him, an unreadable expression on her face.  “Did you play a major role in the mutiny on the Nexus?” she asked bluntly, out of no where, her dark gaze unwavering.  
  
    Reyes took a drink to mask his surprise.  She was still watching him, trying to feel him out.  He tried to speak too soon after swallowing the mouthful of whiskey, which burned his throat causing him to cough through his words.  “I had… nothing to do… with that shit show.”  He sighed and looked her in the eye.  “I didn’t like how Tann was handling things.  I thought I could do better on my own, so I cut ties and jumped ship with the rest of the exiles.”  
  
    Wednesday nodded, looking thoughtful.  “You know,” she mused,” if I’d been on the Nexus at the time… I probably would have done the same thing.”  
  
    And somehow Reyes knew she would have.  He found himself wondering _if_ she had come to Kadara earlier, with him and the other exiles, would he still be drawn to her?  Even without her Pathfinder title and all the benefits that came with it?  But then he thought of her hundred watt smile and her unrivaled veracity, and he _knew_ that Pathfinder or not, he’d probably still pick her out of a crowd.    
  
    No matter _what_ Wednesday Ryder was, like it or not, he’d still be drawn to her; like a moth to a flame.  He just hoped that he wouldn’t suffer the same fate as the helpless moth.


	7. Oblivion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Reyes tags along when Wednesday goes to steal Dr. Nakamoto's formula back. So much flirting. I can't even.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight canon divergence and some more squadmate! Reyes action. xD

Wednesday was jarred awake by the buzzing of her omni-tool on her bedside table.  She squeezed her eyes shut, but it went off again.  Groaning, she reached out blindly in the dark, fumbling for the device.  It teetered dangerously on the edge of the table when her fingers brushed against it.  “Nononononono,” she muttered, stretching her arm out as far as far as she could in hopes of reaching it before it fell.  She really didn’t want to have to crawl out of bed to retrieve it from the floor.    
  
    Finally, snatching it from the far reaches of the table’s edge she fastened the miniature computer to her wrist she opened her email.  Wednesday hissed at the sudden brightness of the holographic screen in front of her.  Blinking several times to banish the bright shapes from her vision she scrolled through her new messages.  There was something from Tann, _ugh no_ , she thought, skipping over it.  Next was one from Cora with a multitude of stress relieving yoga poses attached.  _How many of those could double as sex positions_ , she wondered with a smirk.  The last was from Reyes Vidal.  When she spotted his name amongst the others her stomach fluttered excitedly and she quickly opened his message.  
  
_Ryder,_  
_Remember how I said I’d help you win friends in Kadara port?  Well, an opportunity has presented itself to do just that.  If you’re interested, speak with Ryota Nakamoto.  He runs a small clinic in the slums._

 _\- Reyes_  
  
    Wednesday wondered what the doctor could need her help with, but Reyes' cryptic message had her curiosity thoroughly piqued.  She decided to get up and check it out, since it was doubtful she was going to be able to fall back asleep anytime soon.  But first, coffee.

* * *

  
  
    It didn’t take long for Wednesday, Vetra, and Cora to find Dr. Nakamoto’s make-shift clinic.  Several humans and various other aliens lay about outside the large storage container that Nakamoto worked out of.  
  
    “What’s wrong with them?”  Cora asked in a hushed voice.  
  
    “Oblivion,” Vetra answered.  
  
    Wednesday’s eyes slid over them and she frowned.  Red Sand had been a popular drug back on Omega, so she was no stranger to such a sight.  However, that didn’t make her feel any less disgusted by it.  In her college years she hadn’t exactly shied away from certain more harmless recreational drugs; usually ecstasy or a mild hallucinogen you could buy under the table at one of the seedier nightclubs on the Citadel, but hardcore drugs like this always made her uneasy.  
  
    A young Asian man in a clean uniform approached her, obviously Dr. Nakamoto.  “You don’t look like my usual patients,” he observed.  “They’re usually leaking…”  
  
    Wednesday raised an eyebrow.  “Nope, not leaking from anywhere, also not in need of medical attention.”  The doctor regarded her with a puzzled look.  
  
    “What _can_ I help you with then?”  
  
    “Actually, I’m here to help you, Doctor.  I’m Ryder… a Pathfinder,” she added grudgingly.    
  
    “A Pathfinder?  Could’ve used one of you a few months ago,” Nakamoto commented in a dry tone.  
  
    Wednesday forced a smile that didn’t quite touch her eyes.  “Yeah well…” she trailed off, not feeling like opening _that_ can of worms.  “I got a tip that you might need help with something?”  
  
    The young doctor’s brow drew down.  “It’s the Oblivion.  It’s becoming an epidemic.”  He gestured to the moaning people filling the cots behind him and huddling outside the door.  “I used to work for Sloane, and my colleague and I came across a substance native to Kadara that mimics the same properties as Penicillin,” he explained.  
  
    Vetra whistled low between her teeth while Cora exclaimed, “now that _would_ be a medical breakthrough.”  
  
    “Exactly,” Nakamoto agreed, “until Sloane found out that its highly addictive in large doses, and decided to sell it for revenue and to keep the population subdued,” he exclaimed bitterly, crossing his arms.  “After that I quit.  I didn’t want to have any part in that.  The problem is… the formula is still at my old lab where my ex-colleague is still producing the drug for Sloane.”  
  
    Wednesday listened thoughtfully.  “Where is this lab?”  
  
    Nakamoto looked confused for a moment.  “It’s in the Badlands… why?”  
  
    A wolfish grin spread across the Pathfinder’s face and understanding dawned on the doctor a moment later.  “No, it’s too risky.  I don’t want anyone else to get hurt, or killed because of my mistake.”  
  
    “Don’t worry doctor, we know what we’re about,” Vetra cut in, catching on to Ryder’s plan.  
  
    “Yeah, we’re _very_ capable,” Wednesday assured him.  “Stealing the formula back will be a piece of cake.  Now, I’m gunna need the exact coordinates to that lab.”

* * *

  
  
    As Wednesday and her two companions made their way out of the damp warren of the slums, Reyes stepped out from behind the pillar he’d been leaning against, clearly waiting for them and fell in step with the Pathfinder.    
  
    “Ryder,” he drawled, flashing her a charming grin that made her stomach do back flips.  To her credit, Wednesday didn’t react visibly other than a raised brow in his direction and a slight curving of her lips.    
  
    “You stalking me now Vidal?”  she asked cheekily.  Behind her Cora rolled her eyes while Vetra adopted an amused expression.  
  
    Reyes gasped, feigning indignation.  “It’s my job to be well informed and your movements aren’t exactly hard to follow, Pathfinder.”  
  
    “ _Uh huh_ ,” she replied, sounding unconvinced.  
  
    Reyes chuckled, but got down to business.  “So you met with Dr. Nakamoto.  What did you think?”  
  
    Wednesday kept a brisk pace as she replied.  “I don’t doubt he feels guilty, not to mention frustrated, that his discovery’s been twisted by Sloane, but there’s no way he could have known that would happen.”  When she mentioned Sloane Kelly, her eyes narrowed and her lips twisted in disgust.  The more she learned about the way the woman governed, the more she came to dislike her.  She glanced at Reyes with a sly grin.  “That’s why I’m stealing the Oblivion formula from her.”  
  
    The smuggler threw his head back and laughed.  “Somehow I _knew_ you were going to say that Ryder.”  
  
    “Oh?  You think you know me so well already?” she fired back, her eyes glinting with amusement.  
  
    Reyes shrugged.  “I know you well enough to know you’d take any chance to help people _and_ put a pin in Sloane’s operation in one go.”  He leaned in closer and his next words were pitched low, for her ears only.  “But… I wouldn’t mind getting to know you _more_.”  
  
    Wednesday’s face flushed and she felt electricity course though her body, starting at her core and zinging toward her extremities.  She bit her lip, catching herself from blurting out, _I wouldn’t mind that either_.  Instead she merely regarded Reyes with a mysterious grin, enjoying him squirm, as if he hadn’t meant to admit that so freely.  
  
    Initiating their playful banter and egging him on was fun, but it was infinitely more exciting when he chased back.  
  
    Reyes seemed to be deliberating something before finally speaking again.  “You’re headed to the lab now?”  Wednesday nodded.  “Mind if I tag along?”  
  
    “You want to help?” she asked, not quite able to hide the incredulity from her voice.  
  
    Reyes scowled.  “Is that so hard to believe?  I helped you with the Roekar case, if you’ll remember.  In fact, without my assistance you probably wouldn’t be around to be having this conversation right now.”  
  
    Wednesday couldn’t help her amused grin at his petulant tone.  “Alright, alright Vidal, you’ve made your point.  You can come along… as long as you can keep up.”  The strange mixture of emotions that crossed the man’s features at her teasing melted into a bemused smile.  
  
    “I’ll meet you there Ryder.”  
  
    “What, don’t want to ride in the Nomad?”  she called after him as he veered off toward his shuttle.  
  
    Reyes spread his hands in an exaggerated shrug.  “It might be a little too cramped for my liking.  Besides, I’ve heard about your driving Pathfinder and I’d rather not take the chance.”  
      
    Wednesday gaped after him and grimaced as Vetra began laughing so hard tears welled up in her eyes.  
  
    “Come on, let’s go,” Cora exclaimed flatly, herding the two along.

* * *

  
  
    Reyes had beat them there, and as the three women climbed out of the Nomad Cora pulled Wednesday aside.  “Are you sure this is a good idea, Ryder?”  
  
    The Pathfinder drew herself up, grasping for an air of authority.  “Yes,” she hissed.  “Reyes _did_ help take out the Roekar.”  
  
    “Yes, but… from your report one could argue that the only reason you were captured by them in the first place was because you were waiting on him,” Cora pointed out.  
  
    Wednesday shifted uncomfortably at her words.  She _did_ have a point, as much as the Pathfinder was loathe to admit it.  “Yeah well… that won’t happen this time,” she insisted.  “Look, he’s already here.”  
  
    Cora sighed.  “Wednesday,” she began and the use of her first name made Ryder stiffen.  Her second-in-command noticed and proceeded gently.  “I know you want to trust Vidal, but just… don’t let your feelings cloud your judgement, okay?”  
  
    Wednesday relaxed when she realized she wasn’t getting a lecture.  “I appreciate your concern Cora, but I’m pretty sure I know what I’m doing.”  
  
    “ _Pretty sure_?”  Cora exclaimed as she followed the Pathfinder.  
  
    When they approached, Reyes unfolded his arms and pushed away from the hull of his shuttle.  “I did some scouting while I waited.  The place is crawling with Outcasts.”  
  
    Wednesday glanced from Vetra to Cora and grinned.  “Nothing we can’t handle.”  
  
    Reyes grinned.  “Confidence looks good on you, Pathfinder,” he murmured in her ear as she stepped past him, earning him a genuine smile in return.    
  
    Cora and Vetra took up position on either side, creeping forward to flank the Outcasts while Wednesday hung back, watching through her scope, with Reyes sticking close to her location.  Her first shot was the signal for the others to attack.  The first of Sloane’s people fell to her well placed headshot, and then bedlam broke loose.  Wednesday moved from cover to cover picking off enemies while Cora tore through their defenses with her biotics.    
  
    Swearing as she missed her shot for the third time in a row, Wednesday fumbled with her clip, frustration and adrenaline making her movements shaky.  She faintly heard someone cry out “grenade!”, but didn’t realize the warning was directed at her until the explosive landed at her feet.  
  
    “Shit,” she uttered right before something hit her from the side, propelling her away from the blast.  She landed heavily, feeling her lungs empty painfully from the impact and the weight crushing her.  It wasn’t until she opened her eyes that she realized what had knocked her out of the way, as she found herself staring up at a pair of worried amber eyes.  
  
    “Ryder, you alright?” Reyes gasped, quickly pushing himself off her as she winced.  
  
    “Yeah… yeah,” she answered still a little dazed.  
  
    “You need to watch your ass out there,” he exclaimed, scanning the field.  
  
    Wednesday blinked at him and took in a shaky breath, somewhat ruining the effect of her next words.  “Looks like you already got that covered.”  
  
    Reyes glanced back at her, his lips tugging into a lopsided smirk.  “What exactly are you implying Ryder?”  
  
    “You know very well what I’m implying.”  
  
    Reyes gaped at her for a moment before chuckling to himself.  “You’re just lucky you have such a nice backside, or I may not have been paying such close attention.”  
  
    Wednesday jammed a fresh clip into place and braced her Isharay on top of the shipping container they were hiding behind.  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she smirked, firing a round and reloading smoothly, her nerves now back under control.  “For the record, you have a pretty nice ass yourself, Vidal.”  His lips twitched as if he were trying not to smile as he shook his head, muttering something under his breath that Wednesday didn’t quite catch, but knew was probably about her.  
      
    “Ryder!” Vetra called, grabbing her attention.  “Shuttles inbound!”  
  
    “Oh great,” Wednesday muttered, checking how much ammo she had left and feeling a pang of worry.  However, as the shuttles dropped their passengers, the Pathfinder recognized their armor as Collective and quickly got on the coms to tell her teammates not to shoot at them.  
  
    One of the Collective agents called to her as he ran past.  “The Charlatan sends his regards!”  Wednesday gave the man a thumbs up, all the while wondering _how_ the Charlatan knew she was there.    
  
    With the Collective’s help the rest of the Outcasts fell easily, and as quickly as they’d shown up, the mysterious group was gone again.

* * *

 

  
    Reyes watched the Pathfinder disappear into the lab with Nyx and Harper flanking her like a pair of bodyguards.  While he waited by his shuttle he let his mind wander and found himself drawn to the moment just after knocking her out of the way of that grenade and how nice she’d felt beneath him, even for just a split second.  His cock twitched as his imagination took over, leading him to lewder territory.  _Down boy_ , he chastised, willing himself to calm down.  
  
    When the three returned from the lab, the Pathfinder was wearing a smug smile and waved a holo-disk in his face.  “Easy peasy,” she gloated, and Reyes chuckled.    
  
    “Never doubted you for a moment, Ryder.”  His compliment left her beaming and he took pleasure in that fact, even as he wondered _why_ he cared so much.  
  
    “Well, I should probably get this back to Dr. Nakamoto.”  She took a few steps and hesitated, turning back.  “Drinks later?” she asked hopefully.  
  
    “Sorry Pathfinder, I’m afraid I can’t tonight.  I’m booked.”  
  
    “Oh,” she exclaimed, her features visibly wilting.  “Lemme guess, hot date?” she fished, (poorly) feigning indifference.  
  
    For a moment Reyes considered leaving her guessing, but the disappointment in her bearing made him feel like too much of an asshole.  “Nothing like that,” he assured her.  “Just a business meeting.”  
  
    Her expression brightened slightly.  “Good,” she murmured, and then louder, "guess I’ll see you around then.”  
  
    “I’ll be in touch Ryder.”  
  
    Reyes climbed into the shuttle’s cockpit and powered up the engine.  A nagging feeling had him wishing for a strong drink.  He wasn’t being careful enough with Ryder, and somehow his interest in her had shifted from business investment to personal.  He found himself wanting to impress her and he actually _cared_ what she thought of him... and it made him damned uncomfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all this banter isn't too over the top, because I'm really enjoying writing it lol. I'm excited to see what you think. ^^

**Author's Note:**

> Comments give me life, aka let me know what you think ^^


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